2: The Altar

Olivia was a wonderful seamstress and designer; this was something the whole family had known for a long time. But I never expected her to be able to produce something so beautiful for someone who didn't even want a wedding.

My floor-length, lace white dress was covered in embroidered flowers and leaves that I knew must have taken hours to delicately perfect; the sheer sleeves had a branch of leaves falling down to the slim wrist. I felt like a princess, but one who was being tortured when I was handed the shoes I was supposed to wear.

Whilst Olivia and I were completely different sizes in clothing - I was the thickness of a stick and five-foot-one, compared to her healthy weight and height of five-foot-five - we could still wear the same shoes. And Olivia happened to wear a lot more heels than I did, so the pair of peep-toe white heels with matching flowers embroidery and a thin ankle strap, would not have been a problem for her. I, on the other hand, was barely able to stand still in them.

"You look absolutely stunning," Mom breathed as she stood behind me, both of us staring into the mirror. 

I agreed that it was an improvement, but I always thought I looked better with my hair down and without makeup. Not being in pain usually helped, too.

"Thanks," I murmured, walking to the nearest seat in the room. "How long do I have?"

Bella glanced at her watch. "Three minutes. Sara and I just got a text to get into position, but you can stay here for a minute longer."

I sighed, covering my face with my hands. Though, my mother soon pulled them away muttering how I would ruin my makeup. I took a second to breathe, then stood, nodding at my sisters to lead the way.

Olivia had left the hotel only to pick up a bridesmaid dress matching what I had been wearing before the bride switch, so she looked better than I did as she took her place in front of me. We walked in a single-file line, with Mom rushing past to get to her seat before she could be late. I was a nervous wreck trying to walk in my heels but knew I only had to hold out until I found my father at the door.

This was so far out of my comfort zone that I didn't even know what to do. I wondered how a wedding made only for business would change the usual script, or whether I would have to pretend to pronounce my never-ending love for a man I hadn't even met yet.

When I saw my father, I almost jumped to his side, eagerly lacing my arm through his. He didn't seem to notice me, though, as he stared straight ahead at the bridesmaids preparing to enter the ceremony.

I fidgeted with my dress, fluffing out the skirt until Dad swatted in my direction. My attention turned instead to the bouquet in my hands, and again he stopped it. He took the bouquet entirely away from me like I was a child.

"I'm sorry this day didn't go to plan, Daddy."

He barely even looked at me. "Let's just get this thing over with, Rosie. I'd like to forget any of this ever happened."

Wedding tunes started playing, so Dad handed my bouquet back to me, and Sara, the first bridesmaid to walk out, took a step forward. Two wedding guests quickly pulled the doors open in front of us, and I finally felt my blood run cold.

'I'm about to get married.'

"Smile," Dad whispered, as Bella disappeared into the venue.

I forced a smile to take over my face but I knew anyone who looked at it wouldn't be fooled. I probably looked like I'd been taken captive.

By the time Olivia was long gone and it was my turn to walk down the aisle, I almost backed out. But in a way, it was good that I was so scared of my father because I avoided leaving a man at the altar. Just because I didn't know the man didn't mean I wouldn't feel awful if he had to go through that sort of embarrassment, real fiance or not.

Beginning the walk down the aisle, I saw my soon-to-be husband for the very first time: Armani Cartelli, the son of one of my father's all-time rivals. Olivia had only spoken good of Armani and his family despite everything I had been told otherwise, which eased some of my nerves as I moved closer to him.

He stood tall and wide, his suit filled to the brim with his body, looking like it was almost too small. He held a very professional pose, with a straightened back and his hands clasped behind him. However, I didn't think anyone would truly be looking at that, because his face was the kind of face you would see in a magazine.

Sharp but soft features surrounded a beautiful pair of blue eyes and plump-looking lips. I half-expected him to pull out a sudden pose and have his photo taken in the middle of the service.

As I walked, I felt him examining me in the same way I had examined him. To anyone who didn't know the nature of the wedding, they would think we were unable to stop staring at each other, completely enamoured by the concept of marrying the person in our sights. But to anyone else, it was obvious that we were taking one another in, deciding what we were going to be stuck with for life.

For life.

I tried not to think about what this wedding really meant, though, when I finally reached the altar. Dad helped me up the few steps, before Sara reached hurriedly forward to bring me in front of my new fiance. She took the bouquet from me, leaving me with two free hands. I didn't know what to do with them so I cast a look toward Armani's face.

Silently, he extended both of his hands, and I gladly took them. They were rougher than I expected, slightly callous, but he immediately provided me with enough support to keep me upright rather than falling over in front of the room of people. It was like he knew the struggle I was going through.

Once all had fallen still throughout the venue, the officiant announced for everyone to sit down. A part of my mind wished I could follow his instruction, whilst the other part focused on looking like I really was in love with the man before me.

Ensuring not to speak loudly enough that anyone could hear, I whispered, "Hi."

Armani glanced me up and down once. "Hello. Do you prefer Rose?"

"Y-yes," I stuttered. I felt my face already heating up.

Rose was a nickname nobody called me, despite my preference. Once upon a time, my father had said I was too young, too immature to be called Rose, that Rosie suited me much better, and ever since, all I had been called was Rosie. I'd been waiting for an opportunity to change that, but I never thought that would come while I stood at the altar.

Armani barely nodded, adjusting his grip around my fingers. We glanced at the officiant at the same time, silently asking him to begin the fake ceremony. I wondered if it was real to him.

The officiant cleared his throat loudly. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of the Cartelli and the Rizzo family."

Not the loving union of two people.

"For many years, it was thought that it could never be done, but thanks to this lovely couple" - my nose automatically scrunched up for just a second - "the two families will continue on in complete harmony with one another. It is strange how two beings can bring about so much change, and how something as simple as meeting the right person can make all the difference in so many lives.

"I've been asked to keep the ceremony short today as there is a lot of partying to come" - the audience chuckled - "so we will begin with the vows. Could the ringbearer please step forward with the rings?"

Much to my surprise, a little boy I hadn't noticed standing with the groomsmen came forward holding a small velvet box. He looked between us for a moment before handing the box to Armani, who quickly let go of one of my hands to take it. I caught a slight smile on his face but it was gone by the time he was stood up straight again.

The officiant took the ring box from his hands as the little boy ran back to the man who looked just like him. I noticed that he had the same pretty eyes as Armani, the same facial structure, but he looked a lot younger.

Armani was given what would be my new ring and the officiant began to recite the classic vows I had heard. Everything from 'in sickness and in health' to 'til death do us part' had been left in as if we were a real couple. I felt weird hearing those words from a man I hadn't even heard speak properly until that moment.

After I wore a new ring on my finger, it was my turn to try not to embarrass myself. I held his ring and focused on articulating my words, not stuttering, and definitely saying not only the right name but the right sentences.

I only stuttered twice; both times Armani squeezed the hand he still had in his.

One of the scariest moments was coming up, though, ignoring the public speaking. We were going to have to kiss to seal the deal. Olivia had been warned about this, about what would happen here, but I'd only had time to look the part of the bride, not to act like her.

While the officiant was speaking, I uttered out the first thing I could think of. "What do we do now?"

Armani similarly kept his voice low. "Just lean up toward me and go along with what I do."

I didn't have time to respond, as I heard the final word - "bride" - come out of the officiant's mouth. So I did as I was told, lifting my chin, using Armani's hands for stability so I didn't fall down. He leaned quickly toward me and pecked just beside my mouth, which, to the crowd, would like like a real kiss from so far.

A short cheer erupted through the crowd, and we turned toward them all, one of our hands still laced together. I took a deep breath of relief that the hard part was over.

And then, when the music began, I realised it hadn't ended at all, because now Armani and I had to act like a couple for those who couldn't know that we didn't know each other.

I was never very good at acting.